Where are you putting that vase? I told you to put it in the cupboard. It doesnt go at all with the dinner set, Jane tried to keep her voice steady, though inside she was simmering like a Sunday stew. She twitched her apron and glared at her husband, who stood awkwardly shifting a crystal salad bowl from side to side.
Janey, does it really matter? Richard gave her that apologetic little smile, and tonight it grated on her nerves more than ever. Louise always loved this vase, you know. She used to say potato salad looked festive in it. And since were all together, for the boys sake, shouldnt we make it pleasant for everyone?
Jane froze, knife poised above the half-chopped cucumber. She breathed out slowly, counting to three, trying not to lose her cool.
Richard, her voice was low, cold Lets clarify something. Were having guests in my house. Im your legal wife, and Ive spent two days preparing this meal: marinading beef, baking sponge, scrubbing the floors. Now you want me to put out that garish vase because your ex-wife liked it? Do you actually think thats a reasonable argument?
Richard sagged into a kitchen chair, like the weight of the world had just landed on his shoulders.
Jane, please dont start. We agreed, didnt we? Its the twins birthday, theyre twenty today. Its a big deal. They asked to have both parents. Should I really have told Louise not to come? Shes their mother. Its just one evening well have cake and call it a night. I just want peace, no drama. Please, be the reasonable one.
Reasonable one. How Jane hated that phrase. That always meant convenient. The kind who stays silent, puts up with it, shuffles along, pretending its all fine while everyone wipes their feet on her goodwill.
Theyd been married five years. Jane had accepted Richard, baggage and all the child support, the relentless trips to see his twin sons, troubled teenagers back then. She hadnt interfered with his relationship with the boys Charlie and Sam often visited and Jane had got along with them well enough. But Louise Louise was another matter. Loud, commanding, living in the certainty that Richard was still her property, just loaned out for a spell to another woman.
I have nothing against the boys, Richard. And Ive even accepted you inviting Louise, though normal people go to restaurants for things like this instead of dragging ex-wives to the current wifes home. But why am I supposed to tailor my dinner party to her taste? Want me to change outfits, too wear whatever she prefers? Do my hair however she likes it?
Youre being dramatic, Richard muttered, getting up. Fine, Ill put the vase away. Just dont sulk. The boys will be here in an hour, Louise will have them with her. Her cars in the garage so theyre picking her up. Lets just keep the peace for the party.
He kissed her on the cheek quick, perfunctory then disappeared to the bathroom to shave. Jane stood alone in her kitchen, surrounded by mixing bowls, pots and stacks of food. The roast was browning, the mushroom vol-au-vents bubbling. The air was thick with mouthwatering scent but she couldnt taste a thing. It felt as if shed prepared her own memorial luncheon.
An hour later, she heard the commotion in the hall: boisterous laughter, stomping trainers, shrill voices.
Wheres our dad, then? That voice was unmistakable. High-pitched, cutting through the air. Richie! Were here!
Jane unfastened her apron, fixed her hair in the mirror, and went to greet them.
The hallway was jammed. The twins, Charlie and Sam both now towering wrangled their coats off. Between them, like a queen with her court, stood Louise. She was in a blazing red dress, a size too tight, and her hair was lacquered to perfection.
Oh, Jane, hello, she said casually, not even glancing at her host. Her eyes raked the hallway for Richard. Weve brought gifts! Richie, come on, help your mum with these bags, Ive got my homemade pickle jars!
Richard darted from the living room, bright-eyed and bustling.
Happy birthday, lads! He hugged them, clapped them on the back. Louise, hello. Jars? You know weve got enough food.
Oh, I know your spreads, Louise rolled her eyes, finally deigning to notice Jane. Janes probably doing her usual all lean, all healthy. No salt, no fat? But the boys need proper sustenance. Ive brought homegrown pickles, tomatoes, mushrooms. And, by the way, real brawn on pigs trotters, not that chicken jelly you did last time.
Jane felt her cheeks burn. Last time, half a year ago, Louise had been here too to take the twins out. And shed found fault with every single thing.
Hello, Louise, Jane replied civilly yet frostily. Come in. Theres plenty of food. And tonights brawn is beef clear as glass.
Well, well see about that, Louise grunted and strutted into the lounge without waiting for directions. You havent changed the sofa, I see? Richie, I told you last year that colour ages the room. And those curtains! Dreary, isnt it? You know, in our old flat it was always light, the net curtains made everything airy.
Richard scampered after, arms weighed down with jars.
Louise, we like it. Its cosy.
Cosy is when your soul sings this is funeral parlour stuff, Louise pronounced, sinking into the wrong sofa. Boys, wash your hands! Jane, why are you just standing there? Come lay the table the men are hungry!
Jane balled her fists until her nails dug in her palms. Calmly, she told herself. Only for Richard. Only so you dont ruin the boys evening.
She slipped away to the kitchen. Richard hurried in two minutes later.
Janey, dont take it personally, he whispered, grabbing plates. Its just her way. You know she doesnt mean any harm. Shes just bossy. Let me help bring the salad.
No, Ill manage, Jane cut him short.
The dinner was a disaster. Louise settled on Richards right, shuffling her chair so close their elbows bumped. The twins sat on the opposite side. Jane got pushed to the end nearer the door, as if she were just the waitress catching a break.
To my champions! Richard proclaimed, raising his glass. Twenty years! Wheres it all gone?
Quite right, Richie, Louise chimed in, cutting him off. Remember driving me to the maternity ward, the big freeze that day? Car wouldnt start, you running round the Ford in your shirt, anxious as anything! And then shouting out the window: Who is it? Who?
She laughed raucously, patting Richards shoulder, and he smiled, melting into nostalgia.
Crazy days Young and foolish, we were.
And remember when Sam fell in the puddle in his new suit, going to your mums birthday? You grabbed him, covered in mud, sobbing! Washed him off in the fountains!
Story after story all of them about when they were a family. Remember our holiday in Cornwall? Remember how we decorated that old flat? Remember your broken leg, and me spoon-feeding you?
Jane said nothing, just poked her fork at the salad. She was surplus to requirements. Out of place. Furniture. The twins, heads bent over their mobiles, chimed in only occasionally. Richard, drowsy with wine and nostalgia, answered Louise, forgetting Jane was there at all.
Jane, can you pass the bread? Louise said, midway through a story about Richard teaching her to drive. So anyway, hes yelling Brake! and Im hitting the accelerator! Nearly crashed into the fence! Oh Richie, you went grey on the spot!
Thats true, Richard chuckled. Always was a speed demon.
You were mine. That line sounded like a shot. Jane looked at her husband. He didnt even realise what hed said, gazing at Louise with gooey affection warmed by memories of greener days.
Well, the salads salty, Louise declared suddenly, popping potato salad into her mouth. Jane, you in love or something? Salty food means someones in love. But with who? Your own husband? Ha-ha! Richie, have a bit of my brawn now thats real food! Lots of garlic.
She reached right across to plonk a chunk onto Richards plate, straight on top of Janes vol-au-vent.
Louise, hand off, please, Jane said quietly.
What? Louise froze. Whats with the attitude?
I said, keep your hand away from my husbands plate. And take your brawn. Theres plenty here all cooked by me.
Silence fell. The twins looked up from their phones. Richard blinked at Jane.
Jane, come on its just dinner he stammered. She just wanted to share
Oh, did she? Jane rose. The chair scraped loudly over the floor, like metal on stone. So you like what Louise cooks? You enjoy reliving your double-decade together? Love that another womans ruling the roost in your house, mocking the furniture, food, your wife?
Oh, dont be silly, Louise snorted. Someones touchy. Got hang-ups? I only meant to help, give advice.
I dont want your advice, Jane stared Louise down. Or your company. I put up with this for Richard. For the boys. But you all seem to manage fine without me laughing, reminiscing, swapping our old car, our holidays. Youre the family. Im just the staff, there to serve and not be seen.
Jane, stop it Richard tried to take her hand, but Jane pulled away.
You can all carry on reminiscing. I wont get in your way.
Jane marched out of the lounge. Louises voice hissed behind her:
Such a drama queen. Told you, Richard, shes not a match for you. Too full of herself.
Jane went to the bedroom, hands shaking but mind crystal clear. She swung a small overnight bag onto the bed, packed toiletries, change of clothes, pyjamas, her tablet. She changed from her party dress which now felt like a clown costume into jeans and a jumper.
She called a taxi. Seven minutes away.
Jane put on her coat, shoes, and stood in the hall. Laughter filtered from the lounge. Louise in full swing, Richard chuckling. It sounded like theyd forgotten her already, assuming shed weep and return.
Jane stepped into the doorway.
Im leaving, she said, loud and firm.
The room fell silent. Richard looked up, tumbler in hand.
Going where? Shops? Forgot bread?
No, Richard. Im off to a hotel. Todays my celebration as well celebrating freedom from rudeness and disrespect. Carry on with your old guard. Enjoy. The fridges full, cakes on the patio. Dishwashers loaded, tablets under the sink. I hope Louise gives you a masterclass in washing up, not just eating.
Youve lost it, Richard sprang up, spilling gin over the tablecloth. Its midnight! Guests here!
Theyre your guests, Richard. Not mine. All the best. Happy birthday, boys.
She closed the door behind her, shutting out the angry shouting and Louises clucking.
In the taxi, Jane gazed out as city lights flashed by. Then she rang the premier spa hotel.
Hello, do you have a free room? Suite or junior suite? Brilliant. Ill be there in twenty. Please have a bottle of Champagne and a fruit platter ready. And book me in for a massage tomorrow morning first slot, please.
The hotel was peaceful, perfumed and plush. No onions frying, no clatter of cutlery, no quarrelling voices. Her room welcomed her with crisp white sheets and cool air.
Jane showered, scrubbing away the sticky feeling of the evening. She wrapped up in a soft robe, poured herself a glass of cold bubbly, and stepped onto the balcony. The city lay sparkling below, indifferent and beautiful.
Her phone buzzed through the cab ride, but she switched it silent. Now she checked: fifteen missed calls from Richard. Three texts.
What are you playing at?
Come back now youre embarrassing me!
Jane, Louise is in shock.
Jane smiled and turned off the phone. She sipped the Champagne. For the first time in years, she felt truly free no need to fret about roast beef or noisy telly or whether Richard would be offended. She was alone, and it felt glorious.
Morning sun woke her. She stretched, ordered breakfast in bed eggs Benedict, croissants, coffee. Had a massage, swam in the pool. She booked another night. She had no desire to go home.
She switched on her phone by evening. More messages. The tone was changing.
Jane, where are you? Im worried.
The boys left right after you. Said it was a circus.
Louise went home last night. We argued.
Please answer the phone.
Jane dialled him.
Hello! Janey! Oh God, youre all right? Where are you? Richards voice trembled.
In a hotel, Richard. Enjoying myself.
Im sorry, he breathed. Im an idiot. I ruined it.
Go on, then, Jane said coldly. How was your little family reunion?
Awful. A disaster. As soon as you left, Sam stood up and said: You two are a joke. Mum mouthy. Dad doormat. Janes normal, and you pushed her out. They went off with Charlie. Couldnt face the cake.
Jane felt a flash of satisfaction. The boys were sharper than their parents.
And?
Louise started screaming. Accused me of raising ungrateful brats. Said you turned them against her. Ordered me to clear the table. I told her to help, since she was acting the hostess. She shrieked, smashed a plate your mums dinner set.
Louise smashed a plate? Janes voice iced over.
Yeah accident, sort of. She was waving her arms. I snapped. Told her to call a cab and leave. We had it out. She dredged up everything my low wages ages ago, my mum, and how Id ruined her life. Eventually I threw her out.
Richard paused, breathing heavily.
Im here alone now, dishes everywhere I havent done a thing. I just cant. Please come back. I realise now I was stupid. No more exes in our house. Promise.
Dishes still there? Jane asked.
Yes. Just like you left it.
Good. You have until tomorrow morning. I want the flat spotless, no sign of Louise no jars, no brawn, nothing. Bin the lot. If I smell her perfume or see her leftovers, Ill walk out for good. Understood?
Understood, Jane. Ill do it. Ill scrub everything. Just come home. I love you. I never meant for this. I just wanted to do right
You do right when you use your head, not when you try pleasing everyone, Jane said sharply. Ill be home for lunch tomorrow. And Richard if you ever let anyone run me down in my own home again, itll be the last time. I wont go to a hotel. Ill go forever.
She hung up. Lights twinkled outside. Jane finished her cold coffee. She felt a twinge of pity for Richard weak, torn between trying to be the good dad. But she pitied herself more for years of putting up with it.
She wouldnt put up with it anymore. That little hotel escape had flipped a switch. She realised she could be in charge. Not just reasonable, but simply the boss of her own life.
Next day, when Jane returned, the flat smelled of lemon and cleaner. Windows flung wide, fresh air blowing away last nights mess. Richard met her in the doorway, red-eyed, hands damp.
Ive done it. He reported like a whipped dog. Even washed the curtains they smelt like hairspray, I thought.
Jane inspected the kitchen. Gleaming, empty. The infamous vase was gone.
Wheres the vase? she asked.
Chucked it, Richard muttered. Along with that brawn. Never want to see it again.
Jane looked him in the tired face.
Fine, she said, hanging up her coat. Put on the kettle. Lets finish my cake unless you binned that as well in a fit of madness.
Richard breathed out in relief and hugged her, burying his face in her shoulder.
Kept it safe. Had a bit last night, out of misery. Jane, youre the best. Forgive me.
I do. But that was your last chance, Richard. The last one.
They sat down to tea together. Jane watched her husband, and thought: Sometimes, to save a marriage, you have to walk out on it if only a couple of days. Sometimes, an empty seat says more than any words.
